


When the lifeboat sinks

by crimsoxcore



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Child Neglect, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Non-Sexual Submission, POV First Person, Self-Indulgent, Self-Reflection, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 04:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15766611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsoxcore/pseuds/crimsoxcore
Summary: “Hey, Heather,” she had asked me, (a strange edge tinting her voice that I didn’t really get at the time,) “Why were you friends with Chandler?”





	When the lifeboat sinks

**Author's Note:**

> Some things I feel the need to clarify:  
> 1\. This is tagged with both the musical and the movie. I’ve only seen the musical (in person woot woot) lmao and I haven’t seen the movie yet. This may or may not be the least bit relevant, even if I did do a little research beforehand.  
> 2\. This talks about unhealthy relationships from a first person perspective, and I am in no way idealizing them. That’s just wrong.  
> 3\. This has a few headcanons that I’ve came up with on my own time. I have this theory that Heather M put up with Chandler’s rude behavior due to neglectful parrenting, and that’s why she’s so easily influenced while still being a good person. This is probably wrong though, but I’ve heard nothing canon about her parents so, it gives me some wiggle room I suppose.

I stared at my ceiling, tracing meaningless patterns in the air with my finger. I went to bed a long time ago, but I still haven’t fallen asleep. Probably because of that conversation I had with Veronica a few days ago... I can’t stop thinking about it. It was a disrespectful question to ask, (since it’s you know, speaking ill of the dead and such,) and she recognized that, as she got really flustered and apologized over and over again. But her question did get me thinking a little. I wonder if that would make me a bad person, too...

“Hey, Heather,” she had asked me, (a strange edge tinting her voice that I didn’t really get at the time,) “Why were you friends with Chandler?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but she didn’t let me say anything, yet.

“Wait, wait. That was a weird question... I was just wondering, because you are really the only decent person she hangs out with and I’m wondering how you put up with... Eh, never-mind. It was a weird thing to ask.”

I told her back then that it was okay, and I’d try to think of an answer for her. Though, all I could spit out in the end was

“I really don’t know.”

Now, it’s later at night and I feel more comfortable with my meaner thoughts. Unlike Chandler, I’ve been able to nod at her snarky remarks, but often couldn’t find the guts to crack my own. Sure, I’ve thought of some good ones before, but I was always afraid they wouldn’t be as funny as they sounded in my head.

Ever since Chandler’s death though, Heather Duke has taken over and I really don’t like it. It really angers me to be honest, I mean, who does she think she is? If Heather C was a ghost, lingering around Westerburg high, what would she think? I’m convinced that she’d be completely pissed at Duke. I mean, who wouldn’t? She’s practically stealing her identity!

But then, why do I feel this spite towards Heather Duke, when Veronica is right? Heather Chandler wasn’t what one could consider a ‘good person.’ But she was my friend. I guess, Duke is technically my friend, but she really was Heather Chandler’s friend. Her and I have always just kinda tolerated one another.

So what’s so different about Heather Chandler?

Maybe it’s because our friendship felt more personal. I don’t have that connection with many people, maybe. Heather Chandler is also very... picky, yet she accepted me quickly. Our friend group is like some sort of cult where you must meet certain requirements, and I met hers. Heather doesn’t just befriend anyone, but she quickly picked me. Though she’s been (a little) mean to me at times, it’s different than the way Duke treats me now. It was almost a playful mean, as I knew we’d still be friends no matter how much she claimed to hate me at times.

I heard the front door open, and I looked at my wall clock. I squinted a little, trying to get the bright blobs to come together and form numbers.

It was 12:38 in the morning, and he probably was intoxicated when driving home. I sighed, and slipped deeper beneath my pale yellow covers on my daybed. Looks like I had to pretend to be asleep, again.


End file.
